Waiting in gas lines and listening to sweater-wearing President Jimmy Carter tell us to turn down the thermostat are among my most distinct memories growing up during the 1970s malaise. I was thrilled to buy my first home in the early 1980s with an 11 percent interest rate, having fallen from its 19 percent peak. Americans wax poetic about lost factory jobs, but I had two—and still have PTSD from the misery. They also celebrate Detroit muscle, but before Japanese competition you didn't want to buy an American car built on a Monday or Friday.
Nostalgia is a dangerous drug, so as the nation celebrates its semiquincentennial—the Declaration of Independence's 250th anniversary—it's easy to believe these trying times are unusually terrible. Yes, I'm deeply concerned about the state of America's liberties, social fabric and democracy. We are enduring political challenges not seen in years, even if our standard of living far exceeds anything even our parents could have imagined. I'm hardly an optimist, but it's a tad early to write America's political obituary, even if it's tempting to see the irony in it ending at the 250 mark—a round number future historians will thank us for.
